


on my grave i swear

by moxie_girl



Series: what happened to your good sense [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Bruce Wayne Kills Joker (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's JASON, Jason Todd Came Back Right, Mentioned Joker (DCU), Presumed Dead Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Sad, What-If, bruce killed him tho, happy ending I promise, idk how to tag, ig?, no beta we die like jason todd, screw canon, what if it was bruce's car? au, whoo this is a heavy one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28882563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxie_girl/pseuds/moxie_girl
Summary: a totally self-indulgent fix-it.what if the car jason was hit by... was bruce's car?[jason comes back right + bruce killed joker + it’s bruce’s car]
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: what happened to your good sense [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124639
Comments: 36
Kudos: 165





	1. bruce

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Out of Many Outcomes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103102) by [Gemini_Baby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemini_Baby/pseuds/Gemini_Baby). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: inspiration for my fics plz?  
> brain: 3 new au ideas? ok!  
> me: wait no-  
> brain: here you go!
> 
> so anyways, sorry to anyone who wants updates on my other fics...
> 
> note: all my batman knowledge comes from fanfic & wikipedia. also my first time writing them. sry for OOC!

bruce is on his way back from a gala when it happens. he’s driving home in a nondescript black car, numb to the world. tonight is the night he told the world that. that. that jason is gone. it’s been six months, but tonight made it feel all the more real. news channels are buzzing. socialites are gossiping. he can’t take it back now. jason is gone. 

kidnapped, held for ransom, then killed when the money didn’t arrive in time, according to the cover story. how he wishes it were that simple. but bruce knows the truth. he wonders, sometimes, how exactly it happened. was it damage from the bloodied crowbar found in the rubble? was it the explosion that destroyed the warehouse? being crushed by falling rubble? 

he pushes the thoughts away. bruce doesn’t want to think about how jason might have spent his last moments, hoping someone could save him. he doesn’t want to imagine how jason must have felt, betrayed by his mother, his father too late to save him. he doesn’t want to consider how long jason was stuck in that warehouse with that devil who called himself a man. 

bruce tries to think about happier times, the way jason's face lit up the first time he went out as robin, or when bruce handed him the adoption papers. jason, reading happily in the library. bruce has been seeing jason everywhere, lately. fleeting glimpses out of the corner of his eyes. jason's happy voice, laughing, shouting, "robin gives me magic!" 

when jason first saw his room, how he couldn't believe it was all for him.

god, jason's room. bruce couldn't bring himself to enter it now. occasionally, he would sit outside the closed door and talk as if jason was on the other side, the way he would whenever jason was sad. sometimes, he would stand in the open doorway and he could almost see jason, happily bouncing on his bed, rambling about the newest book he read. he would turn to bruce in the door, so excited, "b!" and hug him- 

but then the illusion would fizzle out before he reached him and bruce would be left crying in the hallway. dinah (his therapist) told him it was unhealthy. she said he should clean out the room, or at least go in. keeping a shrine was bad for him. but bruce couldn't do it. doing it would mean jason was gone. there was no bringing him back. 

the manor had felt so empty without him. dick moved back in, saving bruce from some of the times when he heard jason just around the corner, but then he would turn around and there was nothing. dick helped. but bruce still wakes up every once in a while with tears streaming down his cheeks.

not even remembering the look on the joker’s face when he put a bullet in his head helps. bruce hopes that jason forgives him, wherever he is, for breaking his only rule in a fit of rage. not that he regrets it, oh no. he should have killed that monster years ago. maybe if he had, jason would still be-

bruce hits a pothole and is jarred back into reality. as he glances around, he realizes he has no idea where he is. in his distraction, he must have taken a wrong turn. squinting at the nearest street sign, wiping a few tears from his eyes, he doesn’t notice the shadow in front of his car until it’s too late.

a soft _thump_ makes him slam on the brakes as he realizes what just happened. frantically, bruce rushes out of the car. on the road in front of his car is a young boy, fifteen or sixteen, and the sight of his body crumpled on the concrete makes bruce’s heart clench. with his dark, wavy hair, the boy looks so similar to another young boy he found, splayed out across the ground. 

he scrambles over to check the kid for a pulse, panicking for a second before locating it. it’s slow and weak, but it’s there. the boy is alive. he shifts in bruce’s arms, and opens his eyes, slowly.

“b?”

no. no way. the only people who call him b are dick and-

“th’nk g’ness ‘s you. c’n we go h’me n’w?” the kid slurs and bruce almost drops him. this can't be him. jason is dead. but maybe bruce can pretend just for a second, that he's back in ethiopia, that this is jason in his arms, that jason woke up.

carefully, as if the boy is porcelain, bruce pushes away the hair obscuring his face. peering back at him, from a lightly freckled face, are two teal-blue eyes he could never forget. he’s almost crying now. there’s no way this is real. it must be a dream. but if it’s a dream, bruce is going to cherish every second of it.

“j-jaylad?” oh god, please, _please-_

“y’s, ‘s me. wha’ h’ppn’d?” the boy- jason? mumbles out. 

and oh, bruce recognizes his voice now. heartbeat pounding in his ears, bruce scoops maybe-jason up off the ground. he's decided to call him maybe-jason in his head for now. no use getting his hopes up if he's wrong. bruce tries to slip himself into 'batman' mode, as dick calls it. face calm. emotions pushed down. no matter who this kid is, he needs help. fingers trembling, bruce calls alfred.

"open up the cave. now. and prep the med bay."

"are you alright, master bruce?" the surprise is evident in alfred's voice as he responds. bruce steadies his voice, glancing back at possibly-jason in the backseat. his eyes are closed now, but the steady rise and fall of his chest reassures bruce that he's alive.

"yes. but i have-" his voice falters "-someone with me in need of assistance. please, alfred." alfred must have heard something in his tone because he doesn't question bruce further.

"right away, master bruce. a cot will be ready upon arrival." bruce ends the call and speeds towards the cave, _jason jason jason_ in a constant mantra in his brain. one eye on the road, one on could-be-jason. he doesn't care if someone spots bruce wayne's car entering the batcave.

as he opens the side door to pull maybe-jason out, he spots a scar on his cheek that matches a bleeding wound he found on jason's cheek, that day in ethiopia. he's wearing a tattered suit. the suit bruce buried him in. there's no question about it now. his son is _alive_.

bruce can't keep up the batman mask any longer. he is sobbing as he stumbles from his car, jason in his arms, and carries him to the cot alfred prepared. 

alfred catches sight of the bruised boy he is holding, and bruce watches as his usually unfazed butler is rendered near-speechless.

"master bruce, is that...?" 

bruce knows they should do blood tests, need to be sure this isn't a shapeshifter or clone, but he could recognize his son anywhere.

"it's him, alf. jason's home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might write more? we'll see.  
> plz let me know if u want to see more or spot any issues.  
> ***edit: there is now more on the way!!***


	2. jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is no longer a oneshot!
> 
> note: all my batman knowledge comes from fanfic & wikipedia. also my first time writing them. sry for OOC!

_ which hurts more? _

  
  


_ forehand? _

_ or backhand? _

  
  


_ hahahahahahahahaha! _

  
  


_ 00:03… _

_ 00:02… _

_ 00:01… _

  
  


**_boom._ **

* * *

jason awakes with a gasp. he is surrounded by inky darkness. where is he? what happened? he feels around him. he seems to be in a box of some sorts, possibly wood. was he captured? jason tries to remember. the last thing he remembers is-

ethiopia. sheila. a warehouse. joker. a crowbar. a  _ bomb _ . 

no. that must have just been a dream, right? he didn’t  _ die _ , did he? he’s still alive right now, so…

a thought occurs to him. there’s no way, right? jason pats himself down. he is dressed not in the robin costume he last remembers wearing, but a fancy suit. the type of suit that people are buried in. it starts to add up in his head. the suit. the box. the bomb.

jason is hyperventilating now. he’s always been claustrophobic. he scrabbles frantically at the wood above him. his fingers are bleeding, knuckles split, but the pain is  _ nothing _ in comparison to- to- to the joker. wood splits, and so do his fingernails. jason's hands are covered in splinters as he shoves away dirt. there’s no denying it now. he was buried alive. 

he finally breaches the surface, gasping for breath in the rainy air. mud washes off his body as a crack of lightning illuminates the gravestone next to him. 

_ jason todd. beloved son. _ rain pours down his face, mingling with salty tears. when did he start crying? he wants his dad. bruce will end this nightmare. jason has to get home.

the rain clears as he stumbles out of the graveyard and into the streets. he’s sure it must be close to midnight now. nobody even spares him a glance. this is gotham. people have seen weirder things than a bloody boy in a suit, covered in mud and limping down the sidewalk. 

jason is dizzy. his head is spinning. he doesn’t see the car until it’s too late.

* * *

when he comes to, he opens his eyes to see bruce above him. at least he hopes it’s bruce. it could just be a hallucination. he’s pretty sure he just got hit by a car.

“b?” he mumbles. the man’s breath hitches, and that’s enough of a response for jason.

“thank goodness it’s you. can we go home now?” he tries to ask, although his speech is coming out slurred, which is probably not a good sign. he thinks he might have a concussion. 

bruce reaches out and pushes jason’s bangs out of his face. distantly, he notices that bruce’s hands are shaking. bruce’s hands never shake.

“j-jaylad?” bruce asks hesitantly. that’s good. only bruce calls him jaylad. 

“yes, it’s me. what happened?” he manages out, hoping bruce understands. bruce doesn’t answer, instead scooping jason up and carrying him into a car, he thinks. his vision is still a little blurry. bruce looks like he’s crying as he punches numbers into his phone. 

jason is struck with a realization. how long was he… dead? he tries to ask bruce this, but his eyes are getting heavy. a little voice in the back of his head that sounds suspiciously like dick tells him that he shouldn’t sleep with a concussion, but he’s already out.

* * *

jason drifts in and out of consciousness for a little while, catching snippets of conversations.

“...home…”

“...impossible…”

“...blood loss…”

“...miracle…”

“...jason…”

* * *

when jason finally regains consciousness, he is lying in a cot in the med bay. he lifts his head to see bruce sitting beside him. he’s crying.

“b? is it really…?” bruce turns to look at him, rubbing at his eyes.

“it’s me, jaybird.” and before jason realizes it, bruce is hugging him, and jason is crying too, and he’s  _ home _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also smth for other writers... grammarly is free + super useful! ive read a few fics w/ mistakes that could be fixed by a run thru grammarly.


	3. dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> final chapter!  
> warning: excessive use of _italics_ because dick is _dramatic_
> 
> note: all my batman knowledge comes from fanfic & wikipedia. also my first time writing them. sry for OOC!

dick is patrolling gotham when he gets the text. he’s patrolling alone, bruce has some fancy gala tonight, and dick _still_ hasn’t gotten a new comm, so he’s on his own. dick’s been in gotham more than blüdhaven recently, though not by choice. b needs someone to keep him grounded after what happened to jason. 

oh god, dick still can’t believe it sometimes. jason, the happy ray of sunshine, his little wing, _gone_. how dick wishes he had the chance to be a real brother to him. but no, he was _so_ caught up in the robin mantle being given away that he just. ignored him. 

not like dick wanted to be robin anymore. he’d outgrown the name and outfit long ago. but in his _stupid_ rage, he never realized how _good_ robin was for jason, how _happy_ the costume made him, how the title fit him _so well_. 

dick wished he could have told jason that, just once. 

but dick had run off to _space_ for that stupid _mission_ and he never even _bothered_ to check on jason to _see_ if he was okay and then when he got back it was too _late_ and jason was _missing_ and jason was _dead_ and- 

sometimes dick allows himself to indulge in the fantasy that jay is alive, that their family is whole, that everyone is happy. 

the idea that he could wake up in the morning at the manor, go down to alfred’s famous blueberry pancakes, and sit down next to jason and bruce. that he could ruffle jason’s hair and ask him about the most recent book he read. the fantasies are nice, but dick always feels worse afterward. 

but there’s no use in the what-ifs. what-ifs are for bruce. dick has seen the way that jason’s room is kept, untouched since the day he ran off. 

dick moved back to the manor, after. he can’t leave b alone, and honestly, he _misses_ his dad. they need to be there for each other, all three of them, after this.

anyway, the text. he’s sprinting across a rooftop when his phone buzzes. it’s the special burner he keeps with his suit for emergencies. only a few people have the number. the last time an emergency worthy of _the phone_ had occurred would have been when jason-

 _but you weren’t there,_ his mind whispers traitorously, _you weren’t there, and jason died because of it._

 _shut up!_ he tells it, and pulls out the phone.

the text is from b.

🦇: come to the cave. hurry.

it’s short, but somehow dick can _tell_ the tone conveyed, can _see_ bruce’s expression through the screen. he picks up his pace and sprints towards home.

when he arrives in the cave, alfred is waiting for him.

“hurry, master richard,” he beckons dick towards the med bay, “you’re going to want to see this.”

dick _might_ be hyperventilating. just a tad. nothing good _ever_ comes from being called to the med bay. also, alfred’s voice sounds like he’s been crying. alfred never cries. 

warily, dick picks his way over to the med bay. bruce, not batman but bruce, is sitting in a chair next to a cot. and in the cot…

 _no way_ . he looks to alfred to see if he’s seeing the same thing. maybe dick is hallucinating? it’s not _possible_. jason is dead. except there he is, lying in a medical cot, hooked up to an iv and sleeping peacefully.

“is it really…?” he hesitates, unsure how to phrase his question.

bruce looks over to him, his face weary and sad, but he’s _smiling_ . not the fake, “brucie” wayne smile he puts on for public appearances, but a real smile, soft and happy. dick hasn’t seen bruce smile like _that_ for a long time.

bruce nods and the simple action conveys _so much_ emotion.

“it’s really him. we did a blood test and everything. i don’t know how, but jason is alive.”

dick chokes out a sob. his little brother, little wing, is _alive_ . he’s here in the cave and he’s home and in every fantasy dick dreamt of he never considered that jason could come back after _six months_. 

jason stirs in his bed, and every eye in the cave snaps to him. 

“heard m’ name. wha’s goin on?” he mumbles, and dick is crying because that is _jason’s voice_ , hoarse from disuse but it’s _really him_.

dick sprints over to the cot and bruce gets up to let him sit down in his chair. 

“little wing. little wing, it’s _you_. you’re home.” his voice is shaking as he reaches out to jason.

“yeah, dickie, why? you miss me?” jason is pale and bandaged but his snark is still there and dick laughs a little because it’s just so _jason_. 

dick begins carding his hands through jason’s hair the way bruce would do to him when he was little and had a nightmare. jason hums and leans into the touch, and he’s back asleep in minutes.

dick falls asleep not long after, content to dream not about happy endings that could have been, but a bruised boy returning home and a family that can _finally_ heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk if u would be interested in seeing more in this verse!  
> ***edit: this is now a series! we'll see what inspiration comes 2 me!***


End file.
